


The Heart Wants

by perfect_plan



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1950s, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Veteran Bucky, mechanic Steve, period typical slurs/attitude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-01-01 02:15:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12146451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfect_plan/pseuds/perfect_plan
Summary: Steve Rogers is lost and doesn't know what to do about his own thoughts and feelings. Veteran Bucky Barnes has his own reasons for moving to town and soon the two become drawn together.





	1. Chapter 1

Every Sunday was the same: Go to church, chat with people from town, go back to his mother’s house with whoever she was entertaining that afternoon for coffee and cake, spend the rest of the afternoon listening to the radio shows, eat dinner with his Mom and then go home to his own apartment above the garage. It had been this way for the last three years.

Steve was starting to get scared that things would never change.

Now, as he sat in church daydreaming, Father Coulson’s pleasant voice becoming a sleepy drone inside his head, Steve was close to falling asleep. His mother would kill him if he did so he sat up straighter in their pew ( _ their _ pew, where they always sat, week in week out) and tried to recognize as many people as he could from the backs of their heads. There was Clint Barton and his daughter Kate; Brock Rumlow, his wife Erica and their son, Jack. Doctor Banner looked to be asleep already, his head slumped on his shoulder. There was someone sitting next to Helena Graves that he didn’t recognize, someone with dark brown hair. He kept watching to see if the man would turn his head to the side at all but he kept his gaze straight ahead before him, his shoulders tensed.

Before Steve could think any more of it, there was a loud trumping sound, followed by laughter. He turned in his seat like everyone else to see Peter Parker being pulled by his ear out of the church by his aunt who was crimson while Harry Osborn and Flash Thompson received scowls and ear clips for their giggles. Steve tried to hold back his own smile, especially when his mom tutted. Parker was just a bored kid and who could blame him? Even Father Coulson looked thankful for the break in his sermon.

“ Alright, I guess that’s as good a time as any to move onto the weekly announcements,” he said and there was a relieved shuffle from the half of the congregation who were under forty.

He read out various local news, dates of pot luck dinners and sewing groups, the Boyscout fundraiser.

“ And I’m pleased to announce that Helena Graves’s nephew, James, has moved to town and will be staying indefinitely. Welcome to Mayweather, James.”

Steve’s eyes shifted back to Helena and her nephew. The back of his neck was red. There was an excited murmur. Mayweather was  _ that _ kind of place. The kind of place where someone new in town was big news. Never-mind anything else that was going on in the world; since the war had been over, Mayweather just floated along. Steve silently wished James the best of luck at the coming barrage of visits and cakes and casseroles he would receive.

Finally, church was over and everyone poured outside into the sunshine. Steve said hello politely to people as he ambled, waiting for his mother to finish talking to Father Coulson and almost everyone else. He looked around for Helena and her nephew but they must have left.

*

“ Steven, are you listening to me?”

Steve looked up from where he had been making sandwiches. His mother’s friends would be here soon. “Sorry, Mom. What was that?”

His mother sighed but smiled. “Daydreaming again?”

Steve smiled back as best he could. “Just thinking about the cars I need to work on tomorrow.” He hadn’t been though. What he had been thinking about would devastate her if she found out.

Mrs Rogers smiled. “Always busy.” She put down her best china. “We could ask Sharon Carter and her mother over for dinner tonight-” she began.

Steve immediately tensed. “Mother...”

“ I just want you to be happy,” she said in a rush. “You’re always working and you’re twenty-eight. You should be married to a nice girl like Sharon. I hate that you live alone and-”

Steve shook his head. “Mom, we’ve talked about this. I want to establish the business and save up for a house. I don’t need to get married right now.” He turned and looked at her. “Please don’t pressure me.”

Mrs Rogers twisted her handkerchief in her hands. “I worry about you. I want you to be happy. I would like grandchildren. I just want...”

Steve gently put his hands on his mother’s shoulders. She was shorter than him and slender. “Mom, you don’t have to worry about me. When it happens it happens, okay?”

She studied his face and for a moment, Steve was sure she  _ knew _ . Surely it might have crossed her mind? He didn’t date. It wasn’t like he didn’t get asked; at 6’’2 with blond hair and cornflower blue eyes, he was considered a catch by most of the girls in town and managed to keep them at bay with polite refusals and the assumption that he was just waiting for the right one.

The problem was he didn’t want a girl.

Fear rose in him as his mother stared but then she smiled and hugged him. “I’m sorry, honey. I know things have been hard for you and I shouldn’t push. You’ll meet the right woman for you and settle down. I’m just being an old busy body.”

Steve sagged with relief. “You’re not old,” he said.

Mrs Rogers laughed. “But I  _ am _ a busy body?”

“ Yes, but I love you anyway.” Steve kissed her on the cheek and took the tea tray through to the parlour, his own smile slipping as soon as he was out of sight.

*

Steve had almost completely tuned out Mrs Osborn wittering away about the tupperware party she was going to throw. Apparently, it was a new thing to have parties whilst selling tupperware? Steve wasn’t the most exciting person in the world but he was Errol Flynn compared to most people in town. He hated this weekly ritual of entertaining his mother’s friends but he knew it was because she just wanted to spend time with him so he stayed and tried his best to act interested and polite.

“ Oh, I didn’t tell you,” Mrs Hill said, her eyes sparkling with glee. “I bumped into Helena Graves and her nephew yesterday at the market.”

Steve perked up a little hearing this but remained silent, listening but pretending to concentrate on his sandwich.

“ He’s very handsome but apparently he has  _ troubles _ .” She practically whispered the word troubles.

“ What do you mean?” Mrs Rogers asked.

“ He was in the war and he lost an arm. Apparently, he was giving his family in New York a whole lot of bother and  _ that’s _ why he moved here. Poor Helena, having to deal with that. He’s a grown man, about Steven’s age but well, I suppose the burden is on her now.” Mrs Hill sat back in her chair with a smug smile, happy to be the first to deliver this gossip. It was a given that any rumor floating around town was most likely to have been started by Mrs Hill.

Steve clenched his jaw. What right did she have to talk about a veteran like that? Before he could stop himself, he said, “That’s not very respectful. He fought for our country.”

All three women fell silent and their hands stilled at cups and cakes. Mrs Rogers stared down at her tea. Mrs Osborn glanced at Mrs Hill.

“ I was just...interested, is all,” Mrs Hill said haughtily. “It’s in  _ everybody’s _ interest to know if a troublemaker has moved here.”

Steve’s defences were up. “You don’t know the first thing about him and it’s nobody’s business why he’s here. You have no idea what he’s been through and it’s frankly insulting to reduce a soldier who fought for  _ your _ freedom to gossip. I would have gladly served my country had I been able and I’ll be sure to thank him for his service if I run into him.”

Two high spots of red flushed on Mrs Hill’s face. Mrs Osborn was stuffing cake into her mouth like it was going out of fashion and Mrs Rogers put her hands in her lap.

Mrs Hill stood up. “Thank you for the tea, Sarah. I’ll see myself out.” She left the parlour and the front door slammed.

“ I should be going too,” said Mrs Osborn and Mrs Rogers walked her to the door.

Steve suddenly felt terrible. His mother would suffer the brunt of his outburst but he couldn’t just sit there while Mrs Hill said those things.

“ I’m so sorry,” he said quietly when Mrs Rogers came back in. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

He expected his mother to be upset but instead, she came over and kissed him on the forehead. “She deserved it. That boy is lucky to be alive and god knows what he’s carrying with him. I lost your father after the Great War and because of it. I know how much you wanted to enlist and God help me...God help me when you fell ill and couldn’t, I was so grateful. I didn’t want to lose you too. I’m sorry. I prayed for you to stay ill so you wouldn’t leave me.”

Steve knew as much but that still didn’t make him feel any better that he had stayed home while thousands of brave men had lost their lives or had returned with pieces of themselves missing, physical or not. “I know.”

“ Oh Steven, forgive me,” Mrs Rogers said and she started to cry. “That poor boy. It could have been you...”

Steve hugged his mother as she cried quietly. “It’s alright. I understand.”

“ I haven’t even confessed to Father Coulson that I prayed for you to be ill. I just couldn’t...I’m sorry...”

“ You don’t have to be sorry,” Steve said, holding her.

“ It feels so good to be able to say it,” his mother sobbed.

He felt a wave of envy. He would never be able to confess his deepest secret and a wave of depression settled on him.

*

They spent the afternoon listening to the radio and then ate a dinner of roast beef together. They didn’t talk any more about the morning’s drama and by evening, it felt the same as it always did.

“ Tuesday night for meatloaf,” Mrs Rogers said as Steve was leaving.

“ Great,” Steve said and pecked her on the cheek. It was dark but the night was clear and still.

“ I can call you a cab.”

Steve smiled. “Nah. It’s nice out. The walk will do me good. Love you.”

“ I love you too, honey.”

Steve took off his suit jacket as he walked down the street and held it over his arm, loosening his tie. He closed his eyes as he walked and wondered how much longer he could go on making excuses for himself before someone (Mrs Hill) would notice how he didn’t date or talk about marriage. He sighed and opened his eyes. On nights like tonight, when everyone was indoors and getting ready for Monday morning and Steve walked back to his small apartment above the garage, he felt so alone. He could confess to Father Coulson but even that scared him, to say aloud and to another person of his attraction to men. It was 1951 and as far as the world had come since the war ended, it still hadn’t come far enough. Not for people like Steve. Hell, even for women.

He looked up at the stars blinking to life and wondered if he should even bother to wish upon one.

*

Steve was humming along to Hank Williams on the radio and checking the oil in Mr Pym’s Ford when he heard a car pull up outside. He wiped his hands on his overalls and went out, whistling at the shiny new red Cadillac then wincing as it squealed horribly and shuddered to a stop. Helena Graves got out of the driver’s side and slammed the door closed. She kicked the front tire.

“ Lousy piece of-”

“ Can I help you?” Steve asked, trying not to laugh.

Helena looked up, embarrassed. “Oh! Sorry, Mr Rogers. I didn’t see you there.” She pulled her jacket down. “Would you believe I only bought this thing last week and it’s been nothing but bad news. Could you take a look for me?”

Steve liked Helena. She was single and so a cause for much talk in the town, but she didn’t care a mite. She was fiercely independent and Steve respected her greatly. Before he could answer, the passenger door opened and Helena’s nephew, James, climbed out.

“ I told you getting a Cadillac would be a crummy idea,” he said and rested his arm on the roof, frowning at his aunt.

Steve was speechless for a few seconds; James was the most beautiful man he had ever seen. He looked like a movie star, with perfectly styled dark brown hair and blue eyes that must already have most of the town’s girls swooning. He looked tired though, with dark smudges under his eyes and a day’s worth of stubble. Steve noticed that the left sleeve of his jacket was pinned up. James looked to Steve then, his face still set in a frown.

Steve managed to gather himself in record time and walked towards them. “Cadillacs are good cars,” he said.

James huffed. “You’d think a mechanic would have better taste.”

“ Bucky, don’t be rude to the only mechanic in town,” Helena said. Bucky? James just snorted and looked away to the garage.

“ I’m pretty swamped for the next couple of days but I can get it back to you by Wednesday? That squealing sounds like the fan belt but I’m not sure about the rattle. I’m sure I can have her back to normal though.” Steve patted the hood.

“ Why do people always assume cars are girls?” James asked. “It could easily be a boy.”

“ Fine, then I christen this car Bucky Barnes because it’s been nothing but a pain in my behind since it came into my life.” Helena smiled sweetly at him.

James smiled back. “I’m honored.”

Steve watched them both and their easy banter, suddenly feeling like a third wheel. “Um, so Wednesday?”

“ Wednesday would be great,” Helena said. “I’m working but Buck-sorry, James here can pick it up.”

James’s good humor left his face. “What? No, Aunt Helena, I can’t-”

“ James will pick it up,” Helena said, ignoring him and handing Steve her keys. “Will it be ready by the afternoon, you think?”

“ Sure thing,” Steve said and James glared at his aunt, slamming his door hard. “Would you like me to call you a cab?”

Helena smiled. “No, we’re fine. Thank you, Mr Rogers.” She started off down the street.

James watched her for a moment and then turned to Steve, his face annoyed. “Guess I’ll see you Wednesday.” He walked away after his aunt without another word.

Steve was still clutching Helena’s car keys and he hurried into the garage where it was cool and dim and smelled like oil and metal. He rested his hands on his work bench and took a deep breath. He hadn’t felt this kind of immediate attraction to a man for a while and he didn’t even know James and what could possibly come of anything with him if he did? A guy who looked like that wouldn’t be like him; he could have any girl he wanted.

Steve shook his head, angry with himself, turned up the radio and got back to work.

*

Monday seemed to drag after Helena and James had dropped by and Steve was distracted. He finished work on the three cars he had and did some paperwork. He worked late and got dinner at the Easy Bite diner before heading home. He showered and got himself a glass of milk, sitting in his favorite chair in the small living room of his apartment with his book. He turned on the radio just for a bit of company.

Steve was lonely. Sure, he had his mother and he met up with Clint and Scott once a week for drinks and cards but it wasn’t the same as having someone to love. He put his book down and scrubbed a hand across his face. What chance did he have of finding someone to love?

Unforgettable by Nat King Cole was playing. Steve loved the song and sang along quietly, trying not to let the grey cloud that was his life completely obscure him.

*

He was on edge for most of Wednesday, thinking of when James would be coming in to pick up Helena’s car. It was stupid to be so fixated but he couldn’t help it. Steve sighed and tinkered with old engine for a while.

James turned up at two o’clock. He was wearing a very nice grey suit with his tie loose and his top button of his shirt undone. He looked even more handsome than he had on Monday. Steve had tried to believe that he hadn’t been all that attractive but here he was. The left sleeve of his jacket was pinned up.

“ Hi there,” Steve said and picked up the Cadillac’s keys from where they were hanging. “She’s – sorry,  _ he’s _ all fixed up.” He smiled.

James nodded but didn’t smile back. “Do I need to know anything technical?”

“ Not unless you want to,” Steve said, disappointed that he couldn’t make James smile like Helena had.

“ Then I guess I’ll be on my way. Do you need money now?” He glanced around the garage. Everywhere but at Steve, it seemed.

“ I’ll send a bill.” He followed James to the car. He was going to drive it with just one arm? “You’re driving on your own?”

James stared at him then, hostility in his eyes. “You think just because I have one arm, I can’t drive a car?”

Steve was taken aback. “No, I just...I can drop it off later...if you want,” he finished weakly.

James sneered. “No thanks. I’m sure I can manage.”

Steve wasn’t sure what to say then. He didn’t realize that he’d been staring at James’s missing arm until James made a disgusted noise.

“ Jeez, you want a picture?”

“ Oh god, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...” Steve almost wanted to scream. He was messing this up something rotten. “I just wanted to say thank you for your service.”

James’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell do you have to thank me for? Didn’t you serve?”

“ No, I didn’t. I was -”

James laughed and it was mean and deriding. “Then don’t thank me because I sure as hell didn’t fight for you.” With that he got into the car and slammed the door. The car started up and after a few crunches of the handbrake, sped out onto the street.

Steve was speechless. He was angry at himself for acting like such an idiot but once his shock had subsided, he was angry at James too. Angry at how unnecessarily  _ rude _ he had been. What did he know about Steve’s situation? Nothing. Steve stomped off back into the garage. Suddenly, James seemed a hell of a lot less attractive and he wondered why he had bothered to stick up for him on Sunday. He didn’t want to admit it, but maybe there was some truth in Mrs Hill’s gossip.

*

Mrs Rogers noticed something and when he was over for dinner on Thursday night (he was aware how much of a square he was), she kept throwing him worried looks. He was distant, distracted by his encounter with James Barnes the previous day and he’d been unable to do anything but reply the whole thing over and over in his head, wishing that he’d done and said everything differently. No wonder James had got so angry.

Steve put down his fork. “What’s wrong, Mother?”

Mrs Rogers put down her fork. “I think you should talk to Father Coulson about whatever is bothering you.”

Steve wasn’t surprised by this; his mother wasn’t a fool. “I’ve got nothing to talk to him about. Nothing is bothering me.”

“ Steven, I’m your mother. Please don’t treat me like I don’t know when something is wrong with my own son.”

His heckles rose then. “There’s nothing  _ wrong _ with me,” he said defensively.

Mrs Rogers closed her eyes. “I didn’t mean...there is something  _ bothering _ you and if you won’t talk to me, maybe you should talk to someone else. I can see it, Steve.” She opened her eyes and he felt awful then. She was worried and she cared about him. “I don’t know what to do.”

Steve stood and knelt by his mother’s chair, taking her hand. “Mom, nothing is wrong. I swear. If it makes you feel better I’ll go and see Doctor Banner, okay? I just feel a little off, is all. What with work and recovering, maybe I’m pushing myself too hard.”

Mentioning his illness was a cheap shot but he wanted to lead her suspicions in a different direction. He made a mental note to go to confession that week

“ Yes, maybe you are.” She squeezed his hand and smiled. “Just humor an old lady, would you?”

Steve smiled and kissed her hand. “I’ll drop by and see him tomorrow before work.”

*

Steve was sitting in Doctor Banner’s office the next morning, tapping his foot impatiently. He didn’t want to drag this out. He glanced around the office; the bookshelves were packed with medical journals of every kind and, to Steve’s surprise, psychology and psychiatry books. Jung and Freud, mostly. He hadn’t noticed before. A lot of people in Mayweather dismissed Doctor Banner as a quack but Steve had always liked him.

Doctor Banner finally opened the door and came in. “Sorry, Steve. Got a little side-tracked.” He shook Steve’s hand and sat behind his desk, putting on his glasses. Bruce Banner was a pleasant man with prematurely greying hair and a slightly odd manner, but no-one could fault his skills as a physician. He had helped Steve through his own illness.

“ So what can I help you with?” He smiled gently.

Steve gave a little shrug. “I don’t know.”

Doctor Banner nodded, like it didn’t matter. “How have you been generally?”

“ Pretty good,” Steve said. “No colds, no infections. I get tired more easily but apart from that...”

Doctor Banner put down his pen and rested his hands on his desk. “Steve, everything you tell me stays in here. If it’s something sensitive, it won’t go further than these walls.”

Steve stared at Doctor Banner’s medical diploma. “I just...feel a bit lost,” he said quietly. “I know that doesn’t make any sense.”

“ Lost with your life? The way it’s heading?” Doctor Banner asked softly.

Steve looked at him, a little surprised. “Kind of. I don’t know if this is the sort of thing I should be talking to Father Coulson about instead.” He laughed nervously.

Doctor Banner smiled. “Not all feelings like this are spiritual in nature. Five Hail Marys don’t always fix everything.”

Steve was taken aback. He had never heard anyone talk this way before. It was liberating. “No, they don’t.”

“ So tell me what you’re comfortable with.”

Steve shifted. “I feel empty, angry. That I couldn’t do anything during the war but I...there’s more but I can’t...” His words began to stick. “How do you know that you’re normal? Like completely normal?”

He was almost expecting Doctor Banner to laugh at him but he just leaned forward over his desk a little. “Steve, I’ll let you in on a little secret: No-one is completely normal. There’s no such thing. TV and radio will tell you otherwise. Your parents, your friends, old Mrs Peabody down the street. But it doesn’t exist. People try and be normal to hide whatever feelings of inadequacy and fear they hold within themselves and honestly? That just makes everything worse. People fester and it manifests in other ways.”

“ You mean like head stuff?” Steve asked and indicated to the books on the shelf.

Doctor Banner chuckled a little. “Sort of. I know a lot of people in town don’t appreciate my interest in psychiatry but if more people embraced that side of medicine I think we’d all be a lot better off.”

Steve was pretty sure he wouldn’t be. To voice what he truly felt and was would be nothing but trouble. “I don’t think anything can be done for me. I’m here as a favor to my mother.”

Doctor Banner sat back in his chair. “How about we say that you aren’t getting enough vitamin D and I’ll write you a script. You can take them or not. A little more vitamin D never hurt anybody.”

Steve smiled but he didn’t feel any better. “Thanks, Doctor.”

Doctor Banner scribbled on his pad. “If you ever do want to talk – not confess,  _ talk _ – my door is always open.”

*

The rest of Friday had been dull and busy. Steve always liked to try and wrap up that week’s work so it wouldn’t carry over and he stayed late. He got up on Saturday morning and decided to head to the market. He hadn’t had a chance to do any grocery shopping in the week and he wanted a nice breakfast for himself, maybe spend the day reading and listening to the radio. Steve didn’t have a TV and neither did his mother and he was still a stickler for radio. It had helped him through his illness and sure, he’d seen a couple of shows on Clint’s set but not enough to make him want to buy one.

He showered and dressed in a pair of khakis and a blue dress shirt and headed out. Fall was in the air but it was still warm enough that he didn’t need a jacket. The market was busy and he grabbed a basket, deliberating ducking into the produce aisle when he spotted Mrs Hill talking to Mrs Parker. He knew that his outburst was still big news in his mother’s circle of friends and that she was putting on a brave face, but he didn’t want to make it any harder for her. He would make it up to her; maybe they could go to the beach for a day before it got truly cold out.

Steve was just turning the corner to grab some cold cuts when he almost collided with James Barnes. He was pushing a shopping cart and was a little red in the face. He looked up at Steve, surprised.

“ Good morning,” Steve said politely and side-stepped to let James pass. He wasn’t going to make a fool of himself again.

“ Hello. Hey look, I’m um...I’m sorry about the other day. I acted like a real jerk.” James shifted uneasily and bit his lip nervously.

It was that one little action that made Steve forgive his rudeness. He seemed less hostile today. Maybe it was just a front he put on. “It’s okay,” Steve said. “I think I acted like a jerk too.”

“ You didn’t. You were just trying to be decent and I got...it’s been hard, in this town. I’m either seen as a hero or a cripple and I get the same looks all the time and it really gets my goat.” He huffed in embarrassment. “And there I go again.”

Steve smiled and shifted his basket to the other arm. “How about we start over? I’m Steve Rogers. Pleased to meet you.” Grudges never did anyone any good.

James grinned. “Sounds good to me. James Barnes but my friends call me Bucky.” He held out his hand and they shook. “So is it always this busy on the weekend? I was all set to stay in bed but my aunt shoved me out of the door with a shopping list.”

“ Yeah, I try to shop on my lunch breaks most days but it’s not always easy, especially if the garage is busy. Want to shop with me? I recently made an enemy of one of the town’s biggest gossips so we can be outcasts together.”

James’s eyebrows went up and he smiled, a nice genuine smile that reminded Steve of how handsome he was. “I had you pegged all wrong, buddy. Nice to see a rebel in the midst of all this  _ niceness _ .”

“ I’m hardly a rebel,” Steve said, watching as Bucky (Bucky seemed to suit him better than James) awkwardly steered the heavy cart, stopping every now and again to toss something in. “I just spoke my mind.”

“ That’s how rebellions start,” Bucky said frowning at a can of beans. He threw it in the cart and used his hip to help him push it out into the aisle.

Steve had to bite back an offer to help and Bucky apparently noticed because he grinned wryly. “My aunt is adamant that I get out and do stuff without help and she’s right; I relied on my family to do things for me way too much back in New York. I just hate it when people stare.” He nodded in the direction of Mrs Hill and Mrs Parker who had seen them walking together and were whispering furiously.

“ Well, they’ve got nothing better to do. Let them talk,” Steve said and put some cheese in his basket.

They ambled around the market for a little while and then headed to the checkout.

“ Let me go first and then I’ll help you bag. No pity; I just figure you want to be out of here as soon as possible,” Steve said, hoping this was the right thing to say.

Apparently it was because Bucky nodded. “Thank you,” he said.

Once they were out in the parking lot, Bucky woofed out a relieved breath. “Okay, that wasn’t so bad.”

“ Just try and avoid coupon day,” Steve said and Bucky laughed.

Steve helped him to load up the trunk of his aunt’s car and then they stood together for a moment.

“ I can give you a lift?” Bucky offered.

“ It’s alright; I’m not far, but thanks.”

Bucky tossed the car keys up in the air then caught them. “See you around?”

Steve smiled. “Sure thing.”

When Bucky got into the car, he wound down the window. “You did a good job on this monstrosity.”

“ Cadillacs are great cars.”

Bucky chuffed. “No taste.”

He drove off and Steve watched until he was out of sight, then headed home himself. He was feeling…good. Really good. The day seemed a little brighter and there was a chance that he’d made a new friend.

*

Steve had one good suit and that was the one he wore to church. He had nice jackets and trousers and shirts but this was most certainly his church suit. He stopped by his mom’s house in the morning and they walked together, his mother fussing with her new hat.

“ This just doesn’t sit right,” she grumbled.

“ Here,” Steve said and adjusted the bobby pins holding her hat in place. “Better?”

Mrs Rogers smiled. “Thanks, Hon.” They walked silently for a moment. “May Parker said she saw you talking to Helena’s nephew in the market yesterday.”

Steve sighed inwardly. That didn’t take long. “Yeah. I fixed Ms Graves’s car and we just got to talking.”

“ It would be nice for you to have another friend,” Mrs Rogers said. “I’m sure he could do with one too.”

“ We’ll see. I mean, I hope so; it all depends on if he wants to be my friend,” Steve said.

“ You’re a wonderful young man. Who wouldn’t want to be your friend?”

Steve smiled. “You’re biased.”

*

As soon as the church sermon began, Steve found himself looking for Bucky. He finally spotted him and Helena next to Scott, Hope and Cassie. He stared for the entire service.

After it was over, Steve was in less of a hurry to get away than he usually was. May and Peter Parker were coming over for lunch which he was actually looking forward to; Pete was hilarious and always made Steve’s day. But right now, he just wanted to see Bucky if he could.

“ Oh look, there’s Helena,” his mother said, as if by magic and they walked over. “Helena! How are you?”

Helena smiled and Bucky looked at Steve, giving him a little nod. “Sarah! It’s been a while. You’re very much in demand on a Sunday. I’m never quick enough to say hello.”

Mrs Rogers laughed. “It’s my bunt cake that’s popular, that’s all.”

“ Sarah, this is my nephew, James.”

Bucky stepped forward with a big smile and shook Sarah’s hand. “How do you do, ma’am. It’s a pleasure.”

“ How are you enjoying Mayweather?” Mrs Rogers was beaming; she was always a sucker for manners.

“ Quiet, but I could get used to it.”

“ Ladies, hello!” Mrs Parker came over with Peter in tow, her eyes gleaming as she took Bucky in. “Hello, I’m May Parker.”

“ James,” Bucky said but his smile was less genuine than before. He glanced at Helena when May turned her attention to Steve. Helena just touched his arm gently.

“ Nice to see you, Steven,” Mrs Parker said. “Keeping out of trouble?”

“ Yes ma’am,” Steve said dutifully.

“ When are you going to marry a nice girl and give your poor mother some grandchildren? It’s a crying shame that you’re still a bachelor.”

Steve was caught off guard by the question and now everyone was looking at him waiting for an answer. “I don’t want to marry a girl. Just yet,” he added hastily. “Not...right now. I want to be more financially stable first.” He could feel the heat creeping up his neck, worried that his floundering would give him away. No-one seemed to notice though; they just nodded with approving smiles and May just turned her attention to Helena.

But Bucky was watching him carefully. Steve met his eyes and there was something in them that he couldn’t discern, something that made him a little nervous and his heart pound harder. Almost like Bucky could see straight into him. It was the queerest feeling and he was terrified. He looked away quickly and listened as Pete told him about his new microscope.

The feeling stayed with him for the rest of the day and that night in bed and all he could think about was Bucky. How he had watched Steve, how all Steve could feel from it was something unspoken that lingered with him through lunch and made it hard to concentrate on anything.

*

Monday was always a busy day in the garage, with new cars being brought in and parts orders to be done. Steve was elbow deep in a stack of papers when someone walked in.

“ Hi there, can I help you?” His voice clipped at the end when he saw it was Bucky. He strolled in casually, looking great (again) in a dark blue shirt and slacks, holding his jacket over his shoulder. “Is the Cadillac alright?”

Bucky nodded. “It’s fine, I think. I haven’t driven it for a few days.”

“ Oh,” Steve said.

Bucky smiled, amused at Steve’s confusion. “Aunt Helena wanted me to invite you over for dinner on Thursday. She thinks I need friends my own age here.” He rolled his eyes.

“ That would be great,” Steve said and watched as Bucky sauntered around, looking at the car on the gantry over the pit, avoiding the oil patches so he didn’t get his shoes dirty.

“ I love this smell,” Bucky said. “Oil, metal. I used to be an engineer during the war. Before, well.” He shrugged, putting the emphasis on his left shoulder. “I probably would have become a mechanic if things had worked out.”

Steve stood and wandered over to him. “Why couldn’t you still?”

Bucky gave him a look. “Kind of left my arm over in France?”

Steve blushed, even though he knew Bucky was joking. “I just meant...you still could. You drive, why couldn’t you learn to fix cars with one arm?” He walked back to his desk and picked up a piece of notebook paper and handed it to Bucky.

Bucky read it and raised an eyebrow at Steve. “Seriously?”

Steve had decided the night before that he needed help at the garage and had written the help wanted ad before he got into bed. “I was going to run it over to the Chronicle’s classifieds desk at lunch but I can hold off if you’re interested.”

Bucky frowned then. “I’m not a fan of pity.”

“ It’s not pity,” Steve said, his voice was steady and he met Bucky’s eyes. “I need the help, you obviously want the work. Why not?”

The frown left Bucky’s face and was replaced with a brief mixture of confusion, fear and sadness. It was gone within seconds though and then Bucky’s cocky grin was back. He handed Steve the ad.

“ Don’t think I’d be all that much use to you.”

Steve tucked the ad in his overall pocket. “How about you think it over? Maybe we could talk about it Thursday. I’ll hold off running the ad.”

Bucky watched him with that same look from Sunday after church and again, Steve felt his heart quicken.. “What’s in it for you?” he asked.

“ I need the help,” Steve said. “And I could...use a friend too.” He scuffed the concrete floor with his boot.

“ I’ll think about it,” Bucky said softly. He was about to say something else but instead he walked away quickly towards the door. “6pm on Thursday. See you then.”

Steve took the ad from his pocket and looked at it for a moment. Then he tore it up and threw it in the trash.

*

Steve didn’t see Bucky for the next couple of days and wondered if he was thinking about his offer of work. It really wasn’t out of pity that he had offered Bucky the work; his mind had flashed to Mrs Hill and Mrs Parker talking in the market, of Bucky’s anger at being stared at. His aunt was obviously treating him like he could do anything and Steve wanted to be the same. If he had served and came home minus a limb, he’d want to not be treated unfairly or give in to self-pity. He could never know though truly, and for that he was grateful but the sting of shame for not being able to serve would always be there.

He knew that some people had talked when he had fallen ill. Talk that he was faking it to avoid the draft and how much that had hurt his mother. She didn’t know that he had heard the talk, she had tried to shield him from it, but he had heard Brock Rumlow sneering about it to a friend at the movies once. Brock hadn’t seen him and Steve had sunk low in his seat, shaking with anger and shame. Brock had served but thanks to his rich daddy, had avoided any combat.

Steve had no reason to make himself feel bad about it because he had been very ill but he did anyway. On top of being attracted to men, oh boy, his Catholic upbringing was giving him hell, so to speak.

Would it be so hard to marry a nice girl like Sharon Carter? Steve had thought about it, wondered even if it might quell his urges but he couldn’t do something like that to someone. Keeping his secret meant that no-one got hurt.

Not yet, anyway.

*

Thursday finally came around and Steve closed up the garage slightly early and headed upstairs to his apartment to shower and get changed. He had bought a bunch of flowers for Helena and a cherry pie from the bakery for desert on his lunch break and headed over to Beaumont Street, feeling a little nervous.

Helena’s house was small and neat and he straightened his tie and smoothed down his hair before knocking. A moment later Bucky answered and grinned at Steve.

“ Wow, very formal,” he said, taking in Steve’s shirt and tie and his pressed trousers. Bucky was wearing a casual shirt and slacks.

Steve scowled at him. “I like to make a good impression when I’m invited to dinner.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and stepped aside to let him in. “Aunt Helena will love that. She’s a sucker for good boys with good manners.”

“ So does that make you a bad boy?” Steve asked.

Bucky just gave him a veiled stare. “Maybe,” he said and Steve wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.

“ Now this is how you dress for dinner,” Helena said, coming out of the kitchen, smiling wide at Steve. “Bucky, go and stir the gravy.”

Bucky huffed and sauntered into the kitchen.

“ Thank you for having me,” Steve said and gave her the flowers and held up the pie. “I brought dessert.”

“ Well aren’t you a sweetheart. Come on through.”

Steve sat at the kitchen table while Helena and Bucky got dinner ready, sipping a beer and enjoying their easy banter. They seemed to get along very well and Steve wandered what had driven Bucky from his family in New York. Maybe it was something to do with his arm, maybe something else.

“ You okay there, Steve-o?” Bucky asked, bringing over a bowl of potatoes to the table.

“ Just tired. Long day at work,” Steve said as Helena set down a plate of chicken. “This looks wonderful.”

Helena beamed and turned to Bucky. “See? This is what manners look like.”

Bucky snorted and sat down. “I have plenty of manners.”

They ate and talked and Steve’s initial trepidation faded. Helena was funny and open and Steve was pleased to finally get to know her beyond what he heard from his mother. She cared little for what people thought of her and her single status and he found himself admiring her greatly. Bucky seemed more at ease than when Steve had interacted with him before and told jokes and ribbed his aunt. To Steve’s delight, she gave back as good as she took.

When dinner was finished, Steve excused himself to use the bathroom upstairs while Bucky cleared the table for dessert. He was about to go back downstairs put paused at the top of the stairs when he heard Bucky and Helena talking.

“ Your mother called today,” Helena said.

“ Oh?” Bucky replied, his voice tight.

“ She asked after you.”

“ I’ll bet,” he muttered tersely.

Helena sighed. “Bucky...”

“ She didn’t want to speak to me though, right? And Dad was nowhere near the phone? Too busy telling Rebecca what a... _ disappointment _ I am. God forbid she ever found out the truth.”

Steve’s hand tightened on the bannister. He shouldn’t be eavesdropping like this but he couldn’t just go downstairs now. They would hear him.

“ They’re doing the best they can, you know that. And you know I think they should have let you talk to Rebecca about everything.”

“ They treat her like a little kid. She’s smart and a hell of a lot more mature than they are. She wouldn’t care. She would love me regardless.”

Helena’s voice was soft. “I know, honey. I wish things could be different, you know I do.”

Steve knew he shouldn’t be listening to this and stepped back quietly. He opened and closed the bathroom door before coming down the stairs. The talking stopped in the kitchen and he smiled as he walked through the door. Helena was serving the cherry pie and cups of coffee and Bucky was sitting at the table, eyes downcast.

“ So has Bucky tried to drag you to see the latest monster movie at the Bijou yet?” Helana asked Steve.

“ Aunt Helena is too scared to go and see it,” Bucky said and smiled sweetly at her.

“ You know I don’t like horror movies,” she replied.

“ _ Science fiction _ horror movie,” Bucky corrected.

Helena threw Steve a look. “Oh well, excuse me. Bucky is mad about science fiction. Always was. As a kid, he would read books and comics about space for  _ days _ .”

Bucky looked wistful. “I always wanted to be Buck Rogers or Flash Gordon. Live in the future.” He stared down at his coffee. “Things could be different in the future.”

“ Flying cars?” Steve asked but he didn’t think that was what Bucky meant.

But Bucky just smiled his easy smile. “Can you imagine it though? Oh boy, if I lived long enough to see a flying car. Or robots.”

Helena snorted. “Robots that pack groceries?”

Bucky glared at her. “More like computers. Do you like science fiction, Steve?”

Steve ate the last bite of his pie. “My mom got me a copy of Amazing Stories once but I couldn’t get my head around it. I’m more of a detective fiction kind of guy.”

“ Think you could hack seeing The Thing From Another World? It’s supposed to be good.” Bucky took a sip of his coffee.

Steve smiled. “Sure, why not?”

Bucky grinned again. “Hot dog. How about the Saturday matinee?”

“ Sounds good,” Steve said, smiling back. “Oh, did you have a chance to think about the job?”

“ What job?” Helena asked.

Bucky sighed. He hadn’t mentioned it. “Steve offered me a job in his garage.”

Helena leaned back in her chair. “And you’re just too proud to accept it?”

Steve stuttered. “I’m...I’m sorry. I didn’t realize - “

“ It’s fine,” Bucky said wearily. “I didn’t tell you, Aunt Helena, because I wanted to really think about it on my own for a couple of days, without having to hear “it’ll do you good, give you some purpose” every two minutes.” He had raised his voice a couple of octaves and sounded just like her. “I’d like to make this decision on my own. Too many have already been made for me.”

Helena’s face softened. “I know.”

Steve floundered for a moment. “I...I’ll do the dishes,” he said softly.

Helena smiled at him. “You’ll do no such thing. Why don’t you and Bucky take your coffee and sit out back?”

Bucky got up from the table and Steve followed him out into the yard. It was just starting to get dark and it was quiet. A soft breeze stirred the trees. Bucky leaned against the porch.

“ I’m sorry. I put my foot in it,” Steve said.

Bucky shook his head and smiled a little. “It’s alright. I’m still thinking about it, if that’s okay.”

“ Take your time,” Steve said and stood next to Bucky, looking up at the sky.

They were quiet for a moment, sipping their coffees.

“ I thought I would miss the city,” Bucky said thoughtfully. “The constant sound of activity, of people and cars. But I don’t. I really don’t.”

Steve hummed. “It’s always been like this in Mayweather. Only loud thing at night is my thoughts, usually.”

He meant it as a joke but Bucky turned to him. “Yeah? What makes them so loud?”

Steve wasn’t sure what to say. There was something about Bucky that completely threw him; he wasn’t like anyone else he knew. “Not a lot,” he said, trying to laugh a little. “I’m not a very interesting person.”

Again, Bucky watched him with those pale blue eyes. “I’m sure you’re more interesting than you think.”

Steve swallowed the last of his coffee. “I’d...I’d better head off now. Work tomorrow.”

Bucky nodded and they walked into the house. Helena was making herself a cup of camomile tea in the kitchen. “Meet you in front of the movie house at eleven on Saturday?”

“ I’ll be there,” Steve said. “Thank you so much for dinner. It was a lovely evening.”

“ You’re very welcome. We’ll have to have you again.”

“ I’d like that ma’am,” Steve said and put on his jacket.

Bucky walked him to the front door. “See you Saturday.” He leaned against the door frame.

Steve almost missed his footing on the front steps. “See you.” He waved and started off down the street.

He barely slept that night. His thoughts were very loud.

*

“ There’s a bake sale at the church tomorrow morning and I could really use your help,” Steve’s mother said as she placed the pot roast on the table. It was Friday night and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about dinner the previous night.

“ I’m sorry, I have plans,” Steve said as he spooned vegetables onto his mother’s plate.

Mrs Rogers perked up. “Oh?”

“ I’m going to the matinee at the Bijou with James Barnes.”

Mrs Rogers’s face dropped. Obviously, she thought Steve might have a date. With a girl. “Oh. Well, that’s nice. It’s the right thing to do, to be his friend.”

Steve frowned a little. “What do you mean?”

“ Well, we’re good church-going people and we need to do what we can for those less fortunate than ourselves.”

“ I’m not doing this out of pity, Mother and he’s no less fortunate than anyone else here. I like him and want to be his friend, not to make myself look good in front of the town.”

“ Steven, I didn’t mean -”

Steve sighed. “I know. He’s already having to deal with idle gossip and god knows what else and I want to be his friend without anyone having to think there’s some agenda behind it.”

Mrs Rogers took Steve’s hand. “You’re a good man to think this way. I’m proud of you. I’m sorry if I sounded like Mrs Hill.”

“ You could never sound like her,” Steve said and kissed his mother on the cheek.

They listened to the radio and ate and Steve thought about Bucky standing in his backyard, staring out into the darkness.

*

Steve was waiting outside of the movie theatre early the next morning, plucking at his shirt collar. It was a lovely morning, bright and clear. Summer was fading into autumn but it was still warm. Town was busy this morning and there was already a line for the matinee. Steve saw Bucky approaching and waved.

“ I already got us tickets,” he said and they joined the line.

“ Great,” Bucky said. He was wearing a shirt and jacket, the left arm pinned up. “I’ll buy you lunch.”

A few people were staring at Bucky as they stood in line and Steve wasn’t sure if it was because Bucky was very attractive or because of his arm. Maybe both. If Bucky saw the people staring, he was ignoring it.

“ I have no idea what this movie is about,” Steve said. “Aside from the title.”

“ It’s based on a really neat science fiction story. I can’t wait to see it.”

The matinee was crowded and they found seats in the middle of the theatre. Bucky immediately made himself comfy and grinned at Steve when the lights went down.

“ Don’t brown your britches.”

Steve huffed at him. “Same to you.”

Needless to say, the movie scared Steve. He jumped at the scary moments sure – earning small chuckles from Bucky whenever he did – but he wasn’t expecting the film to be as grisly as it was. He hadn’t seen anything quite like it. When it was over and people were filing out and talking excitedly to each other, Steve and Bucky remained seated, waiting for the aisles to empty a little before attempting to leave.

“ So do you need to go home and change your pants before we get food?” Bucky asked with a smirk.

Steve laughed a little. “No, but...wow. It was...I mean, yeah it made me jump but the parts about the  _ blood _ . That was kind of terrifying.”

“ It wasn’t anything like the story. Maybe a couple of parts but in the story, the alien could imitate a human after killing them and that’s a million times more terrifying than some giant  _ carrot _ ! The suspense in not knowing if who you’re talking to is really an alien?  _ That’s _ terrifying. I mean, the whole thing about the alien being a plant? Ugh!”

“ I guess I’d feel differently had I read the story,” Steve said, standing and stretching.

Bucky sighed. “Can’t win them all, I guess. I’m starving, let’s go eat.”

*

They went to the Easy Bite diner and got a booth in the corner. Bucky seemed to breathe a sigh of relief when he was out of view of everyone and Steve realized how much he did care about the stares he got. A few people had turned to look – some conspicuously, others less so – as they had walked in, their eyes on Bucky’s empty sleeve.

Bucky saw Steve watching him. “Some days it bothers me more than others when they stare,” he said quietly. He flipped open his menu. “What’s good here?”

Steve got the message that he didn’t want to talk about it. “The corned beef hash is really good. Better than my mom’s but don’t tell her I said that.”

Bucky grinned. “So you’re a bad boy after all.”

Steve laughed softly. “Hardly.”

Bucky just shook his head, still grinning. Steve noticed the warm feeling in his stomach any time Bucky smiled at him like that. He bit the inside of his cheek as the feeling was immediately followed by a wave of shame. Steve closed his eyes and willed the turmoil rising up in him to abate, at least until he got home.

“ Are you okay?” Bucky asked and Steve opened his eyes. Bucky was watching him with concern.

“ Yeah, I just...I was ill a while back and I still get a little janky from time to time. It’s nothing.” He felt bad for lying but it was better than the truth.  _ I find you attractive and that thought makes me want to confess to Father Coulson because you’re a man but I can’t and it’s eating me away inside _ .

Their waitress came over and took their orders and poured them coffee. Steve shrugged off his jacket and lay it on the seat beside him. Bucky kept his on.

“ How long have you lived here, in Mayweather?” Bucky asked.

“ All my life,” Steve answered.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “College?”

Steve nodded. “Boston, but then I got ill and the war...” he trailed off.

Bucky sensed the sore point. “Must be nice to have your own little spot carved out here. The garage and all. Is the apartment over it yours?”

“ Yeah. I like it, don’t get me wrong - I worked hard for it - but I don’t feel like I’m really me, if that makes any sense. I haven’t had a chance to be my own person. I’m like...this town’s version of me.” He bit his lip. He’d never said anything like that before.

Bucky tapped on the table with his finger. “Hometowns are never a good place to do that,” he said quietly. “To be your own person. As soon as you show people who you really are, they decide that’s not the you they want.” He looked up at Steve and there was that... _ understanding _ again, like he  _ knew _ .

They stared at each other for a moment and Steve could feel terror and excitement rising in him all at once.

He swallowed and with some relief, saw the waitress approaching. “Here’s our food,” he said and the spell was broken.

They ate quietly for a while, listening to the bustle of the diner as it got busy with the lunch crowd. They finished up and paid and stepped out into the afternoon sun.

“ Thanks for seeing the movie with me,” Bucky said. “I know it wasn’t your thing.”

“ I actually kind of enjoyed it.”

Bucky smiled. “I might make a science fiction fan out of you yet. I need to split. See you around?”

“ What are you doing tomorrow?” Steve blurted.

Bucky blinked. “Uh, church and nothing?”

“ Would you be up for a ride?”

“ Where to?” Bucky asked, but he looked interested.

“ Some place that isn’t here,” Steve said.

Bucky grinned. “I’ll come to yours after church. Bye, Steve.” With that, he sauntered off down the street.

Steve went home and cleaned his apartment from top to bottom. He didn’t want to give himself too much time to think about Bucky.

It was too late though. Bucky was all he could think about.  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Small town life becomes harder as Steve and Bucky become closer.

Mrs Rogers scowled when Steve told her he had plans with Bucky after church but he could tell she wasn’t really annoyed. It had been so long since he had any real friends, putting everything into his work instead, that he knew she was pleased for him. He changed into some blue jeans and a shirt when he got home and a little after 12pm, there was a knock on his door.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at Steve’s jeans as Steve stepped outside and locked the door. “Didn’t peg you for a jeans kind of guy.” He followed Steve down the stairs and into the garage’s side door.

“ They’re better for riding in,” he said.

“ How are jeans better for driving in?” Bucky said as they went through a door at the back into a small yard.

Steve smiled. “I didn’t say  _ drive _ , I said  _ ride. _ ” He nodded to his Harley parked in the corner.

Bucky looked stunned, which made Steve pleased. “You have a motorcycle.”

“ Yep,” Steve said and tossed Bucky his spare helmet.

Bucky caught it and gawped at the Harley. “I hate to break this to you but I only have one arm.”

Steve fastened his own helmet and swung his leg over the motorcycle. “So?”

“ So? So how the hell am I supposed to hold on to this thing without coming off on the wrong bend or corner?”

Steve patted the seat behind him. “Just hold onto me. I don’t drive dangerously and where we’re going is worth it. Trust me.”

Bucky sighed and fastened the helmet. “Famous last words.”

Steve opened the back gate and wheeled the bike out into the back alley. Bucky followed and frowned when Steve got on and started the engine.

“ Hop on,” he said with a grin.

Bucky got onto the bike and put his arm around Steve’s waist. “You’re coming to see The Day The Earth Stood Still with me as payback for this,” he grumbled.

Steve just revved the engine and headed out onto the street. Bucky’s grip tightened but Steve felt him gradually relax as they rode through town. He kept to the quieter streets and soon they were out of the town limits and onto the highway.

Mayweather was a small town out in farm country and Steve had explored the surrounding areas a lot as a kid and even more when he got his bike. He had been itching to take a ride out to one of his favorite spots and well, he wanted to impress Bucky a little too.

They rode for twenty minutes before Steve turned and took a small road off to the right through some corn fields. Two miles up he turned his bike into a small copse of trees and turned off the engine.

“ You okay back there?” he said as he took off his helmet.

Bucky got off the bike and took his own helmet off. “Okay, that wasn’t as terrifying as I thought it would be.” He was a little flushed with excitement.

Steve took off one of the saddle bags and started to walk up a small track through the trees. “Come on.”

They walked along the track into a small patch of woodland that lay on a hill. It was cool and still in the covering of trees and they both enjoyed the silence, just the occasional birdsong and breeze through the leaves to break the peacefulness.

It started to get brighter up ahead where the trees thinned and Steve began to get nervous. He was about to show Bucky his favorite place in all the world. He’d never brought anyone up here. He heard Bucky’s breath catch when the trees opened up and he saw what lay below them.

Farmland and countryside stretched before them in a seemingly endless rolling green and yellow sea. Corn stalks swished gently and birds dipped and wheeled in the sky.

“ Would you look at that,” Bucky said quietly. “It...it reminds me of France. The parts that weren’t occupied.”

Steve watched him. Bucky’s face was sad and faraway. He looked down at his empty sleeve and Steve’s heart twisted. Bucky looked so young and vulnerable in that moment.

“ Come and sit,” Steve said softly. “I have coffee and sandwiches.”

Bucky smiled, switching off his grief and sat down on the grass next to Steve. “Well, you’ve thought of everything.”

Steve poured them both a cup of coffee from his thermos and spread some sandwiches and apples between them on a cloth.

“ This is so beautiful,” Bucky said.

Steve leaned back against one of the trees. “I come here a lot.”

“ I can see why.” Bucky looked down into his coffee for a few moments. “It makes Mayweather seem less oppressive, knowing all this is here.”

“ Less oppressive than New York?” Steve asked.

“ In some ways. One thing I’ve noticed since moving here: No-one asks me about the war. Back in Brooklyn, everyone wanted to know and it was too much for me to handle. To them it was some faraway thing and I had been there. But here, everyone avoids talking to me about it and now I feel like I’m going to burst. I’m not sure which is worse.”

“ Do you want to talk about it?” Steve asked.

Bucky sighed. “Sometimes. I dream about it so often and it...things get stuck in my head. I don’t now if talking about them would actually do anything.”

“ Dr Banner might be able to help. He helped me when I was ill and I’ve spoken to him about...other things. He doesn’t just deal with physical stuff. I mean, you can talk to me...if you want. I just don’t know if I can help any.”

Bucky turned to him. “What happened to you?”

Steve stared out into the fields and the cloudless blue sky. “I caught pneumonia. Then it turned into Double Pneumonia and I just seemed to get sicker and sicker. Virus after virus. I nearly died. It was like my body just turned against me.”

“ So you couldn’t fight. In the war.”

Steve shook his head. “Still got my 4F. People talked because how could someone who looked like me get so sick? I’m 6’’2 and rarely had anything worse than a cold growing up. They said I faked it to avoid the draft.” He smiled ruefully. “My mom and Dr Banner will tell you otherwise. But not a day goes by where I don’t feel ashamed. Men died. You lost your arm. And I was home in bed.”

“ I’m so sorry,” Bucky said. “When I came to the garage that time, I said something really stupid about not fighting for you.” His eyes were sincere and apologetic.

“ It’s okay. I kind of didn’t know how to act around you and I was worried about saying something wrong.”

“ I was a jerk. Sometimes it’s easier to be angry all the time. I was angry in New York and even though living with Aunt Helena has been the best thing I’ve done since the war ended, I was still angry. I’m sorry.”

Steve smiled. “We’re here and we’re drinking coffee. I think it’s okay.”

Bucky looked out across the corn. “I want to talk, just not yet. I left a lot of shit behind in New York and things with my family are in the john and it’s still too much.”

Steve picked a few blades of grass, just to give his hands something to do. “I can listen. Whenever you want to talk, I can listen.”

They fell silent again. An eagle was making slow circles far above one of the meadows.

“ I’d like to accept your job offer,” Bucky said quietly.

Steve couldn’t stop the smile that came. “Of course. That’s great. Really great. We can start with some part-time hours if you like?”

Bucky swallowed and nodded. “Thank you.”

They stayed there for another hour, barely talking and something started to grow between them.

*

“ So how have you been?” Dr Banner asked.

Steve had made an appointment during his lunch hour on Monday. As amazing as his afternoon with Bucky had been, he had lunged into a funk Sunday evening, tossing and turning all night, his emotions all over the place.

“ A little better. I’m still really confused and...” He stared at the carpet. He was suddenly overcome with the desire to tell Dr Banner, to tell  _ someone _ . His throat felt thick and his eyes were hot.

“ Steve?” Dr Banner asked gently.

“ I...” Steve looked up at Dr Banner. “I...” He couldn’t form the words.

Dr Banner watched him with concern and then there was a moment of realization.

_ He knew _ .

Panic kicked in and Steve stood up so quickly he knocked over his chair. “I have to go, I can’t -”

Dr Banner stood too. “Steve, it’s alright. Believe me, it’s alright.” His voice was soft and understanding. “You’re safe here. Nothing leaves this office.”

“ How can being this way be alright?” Steve said, his voice cracked and wet. He was shaking. It was finally out there. He had told someone.

Dr Banner walked around his desk and picked Steve’s chair back up. “Come and sit. Do you want something to drink? Tea?”

Steve sat down. “No. No thank you.” He was trembling.

Dr Banner pulled up one of the other chairs and sat facing Steve. He didn’t look disgusted or angry or anything else that Steve thought would show through on his face.

“ Steve, a lot of people are like you. A  _ lot _ . The world is changing, becoming better in a lot of ways. Right now? Things aren’t great but I think they’ll get better, in time.”

“ You really believe that?” Steve asked.

Dr Banner smiled sadly. “I have to. I don’t think I like the idea of living in a world where people can’t love who they want.”

Steve was pole-axed. Was Dr Banner like him too? Was that why he understood? “I don’t know what to do,” Steve whispered and held his head in his hands.

“ Well, I’m sorry to say that a town like Mayweather isn’t the best of places to be different but...you can only do what you can do. You’re a good man, Steve.”

Steve raised his head. “Thank you, Dr Banner. You have no idea what this means to me. Just to...be able to talk.”

“ That’s why I’m here,” Dr Banner said and patted Steve on the shoulder. “Do you need me to prescribe some more vitamin D?”

Steve finally managed to smile. “No, I think I’m good.”

“ I’m sorry that I can’t do more, Steve. Really I am. Until the world is more understanding, I think all you can do is try to understand yourself a little better and not let guilt and shame rule you.”

“ Easier said than done,” Steve said, “but I already feel ten times better than I did walking in here.” He stood and put on his jacket.

Dr Banner walked him to the door. “Take care. I’m always here.”

Steve smiled and shook Dr Banner’s hand. “Thank you again.

*

Things were a little different after that; Steve felt better, lighter. The black rock that had been pushing him beneath the waves had eroded some and wasn’t as heavy inside him. His mother noticed.

“ You seen happier,” she said one evening after dinner. They were listening to the radio; his mother was knitting and he was reading the paper.

“ Those vitamins Dr Banner prescribed really seemed to help,” he replied with a grin.

His mother smiled for the rest of the evening and the guilt only nibbled at Steve. Dr Banner understood. One person in this world understood. It was more than he could have hoped for.

Bucky was coming to the garage to talk about his job and what shifts he would start with. Steve was excited; it would be nice to have someone else in the garage. He pushed aside any other feelings he might have and tried his best to see this in a purely professional sense.

“ Back here,” Steve called when Bucky arrived. He looked nervous. “Everything okay?”

“ Yeah,” Bucky said, tapping a clunky old Studebaker as he walked toward Steve. “Just seemed less daunting in theory.”

Steve indicated for Bucky to sit down. “Well, I’m not too much of a hard-ass and we’ll only start with what you’re comfortable with. I’m happy to follow your lead.”

Bucky’s shoulder’s relaxed a little. “Okay. Yeah. I can do that.”

Steve handed him a new set of overalls. “We’ll go through the paperwork now, get it out of the way. How do Mondays and Wednesdays sound for starters until you get back into the swing of things?”

“ Sounds good. I’ll...I’ll do my best.” Bucky seemed uncharacteristically downbeat.

“ Hey,” Steve said softly. “I’m not grading you on your work or anything, you know that right?”

Bucky finally grinned. “Well, I’d get an F for anything that required two hands. I know, I’m just...I haven’t had much direction since I came back from the war. I don’t want to disappoint you or Aunt Helena.”

“ From what I can see, you won’t disappoint her. She loves you. And you’ll be hard pressed to disappoint me. I promise.”

Bucky stared down at the folded overalls in his lap for a long time. “Alright,” he said finally. “Let’s get this paperwork out of the way.”

*

Steve Rogers and his hiring of a one-armed mechanic was big news for about a week in Mayweather, until people realized that it in no way effected the quality of work done to their cars and then they were searching for the next big piece of gossip. Steve and Bucky had prepared themselves for it and Bucky had held his head high and then it had blown over and they just got on with it.

Bucky was a natural, even with only one arm and Steve’s admiration for him went up several notches. He had obviously been a very talented engineer before his life had changed and apart from trouble with a few things that needed two hands, he was quick and knowledgeable. He would sing along to the radio and his voice was good; clear and smooth. Steve himself was tone-deaf but he would happily sing along with Bucky to Mockin’ Bird Hill until they were both laughing so hard, they had to put down their tools, rubbing the tears from their eyes with oil-smudged hands.

Bucky seemed happier, the happiest that Steve had ever seen him. He had only been working for two weeks but he was confident and cheerful. Steve was happy too; the doubts and shame he felt inside himself had ebbed and although they were still there, they were silent for the time being.

One Wednesday, they were both working on Father Coulson’s station wagon when they heard someone call from the open doors.

“ Hello? What’s take to get a little service around here?”

Bucky grinned. “We don’t serve your kind here.”

Helena tutted as she walked over to them. “I guess these burgers and fries will just have to go back to the diner then.”

Bucky practically leapt across the station wagon. “I take it all back. Holy cow, chocolate milkshakes too!”

Steve wiped the grease from his hands. “Thanks so much, Helena. I kind of lost track of the time. Are you joining us?”

“ No, I have a bridge game to win,” she said with a sly grin.

Bucky smirked through a mouthful of burger. “I hope there’s money involved.”

Helena waved goodbye and left and Steve took out his fries and began to eat.

“ I’m starving. You should have told me it was lunch time.”

“ I didn’t know it was!” Bucky said. “I was having way too much fun with that carburetor.”

Steve grinned. “I noticed.”

Bucky kicked him lightly in the shin and they ate as Phil Harris sang about walkin’ down the beach. The smell of oil and metal was in the air, it was sunny and bright outside and everything was perfect in Steve’s life.

Of course it wouldn’t last.

*

It was a Monday afternoon when everything started to go wrong. Bucky was working on a Cadillac and cursing every step of the way. Steve was sorting through some paperwork and silently cursing himself; if he had enough money, he’d hire a book keeper but he couldn’t so he had to do the best he could.

“ Shit!” Bucky cried out, particularly loudly this time. “Shit, damn, stupid piece of junk car!”

“ Everything okay?” Steve called.

“ No. I dropped my wrench in the engine block of this monstrosity and I can’t get the thing back out.”

Steve chuckled and put down his pen. “Let me help. And don’t swear around the cars. You’ll hurt their feelings.”

Bucky made a fist and waved it at the Cadillac. “I’ll do more than hurt this thing’s feelings. Have I told you how much I -”

“ Hate Cadillacs? Only about ten thousand times,” Steve peered down in the dark expanse of metal. “I can see it. Here, if I hold the AC Line out of the way a little, you can reach in and get it.”

Bucky grumbled but leaned over as Steve held the line aside. Steve glanced at Bucky and watched as a lock of hair fell out of place from it’s immaculate styling. His eyes drifted to Bucky’s jaw and then his neck and he wondered what it would be like to kiss -

As silent as  _ those _ thoughts had been these last few weeks, they were suddenly back and louder than ever. Steve froze a little, gripping the AC Line tighter and closed his eyes. Why now?

Bucky held up the wrench . “A-ha!” he said with a smile of triumph.

Steve let go of the AC Line and wiped his hands on his overalls. “All that excitement has made me thirsty. Want a milkshake?” His voice was steady but his hands were shaking. He shoved them into his pockets.

Bucky didn’t seem to notice; he continued to work on the Cadillac. “That would be tops. Vanilla, please. I’ll buy next time.”

Steve hurried out of the garage and ducked around the corner to the small dank alley where he kept the garbage cans. He sagged against the wall and took a few deep breaths. He had done a swell job of fooling himself. A real swell job. It wasn’t that he was just attracted to Bucky physically, he was attracted to everything about Bucky: His sense of humor, the way he looked at the world, his sense of self-assuredness but also that hidden layer of vulnerability.

Steve pulled himself together and headed off to the diner. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do about these feelings and he knew it.

*

Tuesday was quiet without Bucky working and Steve turned the radio up even louder to stop himself thinking too much, deliberately singing along with every song he knew the words to and just making up words to the ones he didn’t.

He was starving by lunchtime and went to the diner for a burger and fries, settling into a booth near the back and reading a copy of the Chronicle that the previous diner had left. Brock Rumlow, his wife Erica and their son were in the booth behind him, talking about work and school. Steve was concentrating on his burger, their chatter nothing more than a drone in the background.

“ Get this, hon,” Brock said. “Me and Alex went to Milton’s for a beer after work last night and there was a  _ fairy _ there. An honest to goodness fairy.”

Steve’s burger became a hot lump in his mouth and he froze. Milton’s was a bar in Farlow, a town twenty miles down the road.

“ Really?” asked Erica.

“ I couldn’t believe my eyes. Absolutely no shame about him at all. Me and Alex beat the shit out of him when he went out to his car. I ain’t got time for queers.”

“ Who does?” Erica said, in the most conversational tone ever. “That one got what he deserved at least.”

“ Jack, if you ever became a fairy or queer I’d disown you in a second, you got that?” Brock was talking to his son.

“ No way, Dad,” Jack said. “I ain’t got no time for fairies either.” Jack was eleven years old.

Brock and Erica talked about their new neighbors for a few moments and then they settled their check and left the diner.

Everything around Steve became muffled then. He couldn’t swallow his mouthful of burger and spat it out into his napkin. He had never heard anyone in this town talk that way before. The words rang in his ears and stung. Fairy. Queer.

_ They were talking about me, _ he thought.  _ I could have been that guy.  _ A wave of hopelessness crashed over Steve then; it didn’t matter that Dr Banner knew and didn’t care. Everyone else did. To everyone else he was abnormal, an object of contempt and disgust.

He shakily paid his check and went back to garage. He closed up early, hanging a sign on the door apologizing and went to his apartment and crawled into bed.

*

Bucky knew something was wrong the moment he stepped into the garage on Wednesday morning. “Are you okay? You look terrible,” he said, eyeing Steve with concern.

Steve hadn’t slept at all last night and he knew he looked awful; pale and drawn with huge dark circles under his eyes. “Think I’m coming down with something,” he said.

Bucky nodded but he didn’t look too convinced. He got back to work on finishing up the Cadillac. They worked in silence for most of the day, the radio filling the void that would have been filled by the two of them singing or laughing. The atmosphere felt thick and tense. Steve couldn’t bring himself to look at Bucky and when they did speak, about work and nothing more, he didn’t meet his eyes.

What if Bucky found out about him? Would his voice be filled with the same vitriol that Brock’s had? Would his face twist into disgust, maybe rage? He didn’t think he could bear to find out.

As the day went on, Steve could feel Bucky’s concern growing. He was frowning into the engine block of the Cadillac and worrying at his bottom lip. A few times, he glanced over at Steve and Steve had to turn away. The worry he saw on Bucky’s face was unbearable.

Quitting time finally arrived and they performed their usual end-of-day duties. As Steve was turning off the garage lights and Bucky was putting on his jacket, he placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder. Steve immediately tensed and Bucky pulled his hand away.

“ Steve, what’s wrong? You can tell me.”

Steve stared down at an oil patch on the floor. “Nothing’s wrong,” he said but the pitch of his voice said otherwise.

Bucky swallowed. “Alright,” he said quietly. “Are we still on for cards with Clint tomorrow night?”

“ I don’t think I can make it,” Steve said and tucked his hands under his armpits. He glanced up at Bucky and felt like a fink. Bucky’s face was pinched with hurt.

“ Okay. Well, I guess...I’ll see you around.” Bucky turned and left without another word, pulling the door closed behind him.

Steve leaned against the wall and sank to the floor, holding his head in his hands. Because of what he was, he was going to lose everything.

*

Steve waded through the rest of the week, his depression growing. He had never felt so alone in all his life. He thought about going back to Dr Banner but what could he do? He couldn’t treat what was inside of Steve. He even thought about going to confession, if only to talk about how unhappy he was but all Father Coulson would do was give him five Hail Mary’s and the Lord’s Prayer and Steve would still feel the same way. He avoided Bucky. If anyone were to find out, Bucky would be in the firing line too because of the time they spent together and Steve couldn’t put him through that. Dragging himself down was one thing but he refused to drag Bucky down with him, not after everything he had been through in the war.

Steve told his mother he was feeling under the weather and couldn’t make dinner and probably church too; he needed his strength to open the garage. His mother was concerned; since his pneumonia, she had been even more protective of him but he promised to call Dr Banner if things escalated. Steve’s job provided for both of them and she knew he couldn’t afford to take too much time off so if he had to miss a dinner and a service, then so be it.

On Sunday morning he stayed in bed, wrapping himself up tightly in his blankets. He couldn’t go on like this, he knew that, he just didn’t know what to do. He closed his eyes.

There was a knock on the front door. Steve opened his eyes but didn’t move. Whoever it was would get the message and go away. The knock came again, louder and more frantic.

“ Steve, open up. I know you’re in there. You weren’t at church.” It was Bucky. He sounded desperate. “I need to talk to you right now.”

Steve got out of bed and walked through his bedroom to the living room. He unlocked the front door. Bucky was in his Sunday suit; he must have waited for Steve at the church and then walked here when he didn’t turn up. He hurried in as soon as the door opened and stood in the middle of the living room, breathing hard, his fist opening and closing.

“ Bucky -” Steve began.

“ Who told you?” Bucky said, his voice breaking.

Steve shook his head. “Who told -”

“ How did you find out?” Bucky cried, his face crumpling. “That’s why you got all strange on me, isn’t it? Someone told you and now you can’t stand to be around me. I thought you were different. I thought you were better than that.”

“ Bucky, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve said, his confusion growing. “What -”

“ You found out that I’m queer!” Bucky shouted.

Steve was stunned. He stared for a moment and then blinked. “What?” he said softly.

“ You found out that I’m a queer and now you can’t stand to be around me. I came here to get away from all of that bullshit so  _ who told you? _ ” He was frantic, his face wretched with hurt.

Steve could barely bring himself to speak.  _ Bucky was like him.  _ He managed to gather himself. “Bucky, I...I didn’t know.”

Bucky shook his head. “But you were...you didn’t want to be near me...”

“ That was never about you, it was about me. Bucky, I didn’t know you were...” he trailed off.

The color drained from Bucky’s face. “You didn’t...”

“ Bucky, it’s okay -” Steve started to say but Bucky had already run out of the door, slamming it behind him.

Steve’s legs gave way and he slumped to the floor. Bucky was like him. Thoughts raced through his head. Did Bucky have the same kind of feelings for Steve that Steve had for him? Just because he liked men didn’t mean that he liked Steve. He shook his head a little; this was all too much for him. There was one thing he knew for sure though.

He wasn’t alone.

*

Steve went to Helena’s house that evening. He could see the worry on her face when she answered the door.

“ Hello, Steve.”

Steve didn’t even try to hide why he was there. “Is he okay?”

Relief eased Helena’s brow a little. “So something  _ did _ happen. I knew it. He won’t talk to me about it.” She ushered Steve inside and they went into the kitchen. “I haven’t seen him this upset since he first moved in with me. What happened?”

Steve sighed and held his hands up helplessly. “I screwed up. I...I unintentionally made him feel...it’s my fault.”

Helena took one of Steve’s hands. “Whatever you think you did, I know it wasn’t on purpose. The way Bucky talks about you, you’re a decent man.”

Steve slumped into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. “I feel awful. I never meant for Bucky to think that I didn’t want him around because -” He glanced up at Helena. Of course she knew. That was the whole reason why Bucky was here. He finally understood.

She sighed too and sat down beside him. “Things have been bad for him. I’d rather he let you know but he’s scared and he’s hurting and that was before whatever happened between the two of you happened. Being here seemed to help him and getting a job has done him the world of good. But we both knew that he couldn’t hide from his past, as much as he wanted to. It’s not...” Helena closed her eyes. “He’s not a  _ deviant _ or a  _ pervert _ or any of the other horrible things he’s been called. There’s nothing wrong with how he feels despite what others will say.” Her voice was tight and Steve could hear the anger she was trying to contain.

Steve steeled himself. “I know,” he said quietly. “Believe me, I know.”

Helena opened her eyes and searched his. There was a glimmer of hope and understanding in her eyes and the fear that Steve had felt began to melt away. First Dr Banner and now Helena.

She squeezed his hand. “Will you go and see him? He needs to feel like he isn’t alone in this.”

Steve nodded. “Is he upstairs?”

“ Yes.” Helena rose from her chair and smoothed out her dress. “I’m going to go and get a cup of coffee at the diner.” She stepped forward and hugged Steve hard. He was surprised but then hugged her back. She pulled away and dabbed under her eyes. “He means the world to me. I can’t change how other people think, as much I want to. For both of you.”

Steve looked away. “I know.” He remembered what Dr Banner had said. “Sometimes it’s hard to live in a world where you can’t...love who you want to love.”

Helena nodded and she looked exhausted. “I’ll come back late.”

Steve watched as she put on her coat and then left the house. He took a deep breath and headed upstairs. He guessed that Bucky’s room was the only closed door and he knocked on it gently.

“ Bucky? It’s Steve. Can I come in?”

There was silence for a moment.

“ Sure.”

Steve opened the door and walked in, closing the door behind him. Bucky’s room was neat, the fading light casting long shadows on the floor. Bucky was on his bed, a book in his hands. He looked awful. His eyes were red and wet and his face was drawn and tired.

“ I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Steve said.

Bucky nodded. “I know.”

“ Buck, believe me when I say it was never about you. Never.”

Bucky put his book down and swung his legs over the side of the bed, still grasping the book tightly. He stared down at it. “My parents found out. They disowned me,” he said softly.

Steve walked across the room and sat beside him. “I’m so sorry.”

Bucky swallowed. “I thought...I thought that when I went overseas to the war, I would be fixed.” He huffed out a humorless laugh. “I don’t know why. Then I lost my arm, I got sent home and all I knew was that I was so lonely. So fucking lonely. I always knew I was different but I couldn’t tell anybody. The way my father talked about...men who liked other men scared me. There was no way I could talk to anyone. My sister is younger than me and it wouldn’t have been fair. My mom just agreed with whatever my dad said. So I found out about a couple of clubs in Brooklyn where...I might not be so alone.”

Bucky continued to stare down at his book. Steve’s heart was in his throat. He understood that loneliness. It was like a constant stabbing ache in his chest.

“ It was never about sex. The clubs I mean. You could, you know, if you wanted to. I was still pretty raw from losing my arm but just to  _ hold _ someone and  _ kiss _ them...it was like the best glass of cold water on a hot day. I started to go more often and I met this guy, Adam. We started to meet up. I didn’t love him and I don’t think he loved me but being together was what we both needed. Then one evening, he didn’t show up where we would usually meet. I went home and the next morning I...I found out that he’d been beaten half to death by some guys.” Bucky closed his eyes again, his face crumpling. “They had just left him to die in some alleyway and all I could think was  _ that could have been me _ . I never saw him again after that. I didn’t even go to visit him in the hospital. Then somehow my dad found out where I had been going and...that was it. I wasn’t his son any more. They shipped me off here. Aunt Helena’s always been a bit of a black sheep so it fit.”

Steve wanted to reach out and take Bucky’s hand but he wasn’t sure how he would react. “She’s a wonderful woman.”

Bucky nodded. “I’m not sure what I would have done if she hadn’t taken me in. But not a day goes by where I don’t feel like the worst person for leaving Adam behind like that.”

“ That doesn’t make you a bad person,” Steve said softly.

Bucky finally looked at him, some of the fire returning to his eyes. “You really think so?” His tone was challenging.

Steve didn’t turn away. “The reason I shut you out is because I’m the same as you. I was scared that if anyone found out, you could get hurt too. So I pushed you away.” God, it felt so good to say it.

The anger melted from Bucky’s face. “You’re...queer?”

“ Yes. Although I don’t like how people say that. Or fairy. I like men.”

They sat together in silence for a while and the room grew darker.

“ It’s a shitty feeling. Having to hide,” Bucky finally said.

Steve squeezed his hands together. “It’s terrible.”

“ I was so scared when I thought that you had found out and you...hated me.” Steve could hear the hurt in Bucky’s voice.

“ I’m sorry,” Steve said again. “It would never make a difference to me.”

“ Now I know why,” Bucky said and Steve finally heard some relief in his voice. “I don’t know about you, but I need a drink.” He sighed heavily.

They walked together down the stairs and to the kitchen. Steve sat at the kitchen table as Bucky grabbed a couple of glasses and a bottle of whiskey. He poured them both a shot. Steve sipped his and the burn and warmth of it felt good.

“ Will you come to work tomorrow?” Steve asked.

“ If you still want me there.”

“ Of course I still want you there,” Steve said. “You’re a talented mechanic and I...” He almost said  _ I need you _ but caught himself. “I like having you around.”

Bucky swilled his whiskey in the glass. “I feel good when I’m there. Between you and Aunt Helena, I finally feel like...like I’m getting somewhere with my life.”

Steve swallowed. “I’m sorry for everything. I just felt so overwhelmed and -”

“ Steve, it’s okay. I understand.”

Steve looked at Bucky then and he thought he had never wanted someone as much as he wanted this man. He stood up. “I should get going. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

*

Things were different after that but not in a bad way. They slipped back into their old routine, jokes and all, and while they didn’t talk about the secret they both shared, it was there in the air around them. Steve could feel the relief between them both and for now, that was good. His feelings for Bucky grew day by day, however. He was in awe of Bucky, how despite the terrible things that had happened to him, he was trying to make a new life for himself. He was smart and funny. He was generous and charming. He was attractive and Steve was struggling but that was just something he would have to deal with. To have Bucky know the thing about him that scared Steve more than anything and  _ he didn’t care about it _ was more than Steve could have ever hoped for.

Bucky seemed happy too and threw himself into work at the garage, so much that Steve offered him an extra working day which Bucky accepted.

“ How is the Barnes boy doing?” Steve’s mother asked him at dinner one evening.

“ Really well,” Steve answered, helping himself to some more string beans. “He’s a great mechanic. Having him help has freed me up a bit to get my paperwork in order.”

“ Does he have a lady friend?” Mrs Rogers asked.

Steve hesitated but his mother was too busy cutting her meat to notice. “Not that I know of.”

“ Sharon Carter was asking after you at the sewing circle.”

Steve sighed. “Mother...”

“ She’s a lovely girl, is all I’m saying.”

Steve jabbed at his food. “I’m sure she is but she isn’t for me. I’ll...I’ll find someone. Just let me do it on my own terms.”

It was a lie that had become easier to say as time went on. Mrs Rogers fretted but Steve led her to believe he was just shy, just trying to make more money, just just just. And it worked. He knew he was on borrowed time but for now, it would have to do. At night, he allowed himself to think about everything he held back during the day. How it would feel to have Bucky holding him. How it would feel to kiss him. How it would feel to…

He allowed himself to gasp Bucky’s name into the late night when everyone else was asleep.

*

Work suddenly became busier in the middle of the summer. Cars needed tuned up for road trips and family vacations. The garage was inundated and Steve and Bucky worked flat out. It was a good feeling though and although they were both exhausted at the end of each day, they were satisfied. Steve tried as hard as he could not to watch Bucky working, the top of his coveralls stripped away, the arms tied around his waist and working in a singlet. The smell of oil mixed with sweat in the heat became something that Steve both looked forward to and feared every day. He still felt shame, even more-so now that his feelings were directed at a person. He considered going to confession again but what was the point? He could tell Father Coulson anything and he never felt relief after.

Bucky seemed to be a fountain of calm after their misunderstanding and revelation. Like Steve, perhaps there was some relief in having another person know his secret and not care.

One afternoon, it was too hot in the garage. The usually cool air was muggy and oppressive and they were both a mess. Steve left to go to the bank, cleaning up as best he could, and stopped off at the diner on the way back to pick up two sodas. Bucky smiled in gratitude and relief when Steve handed him the cold glass bottle.

“ Oh boy, do I need this,” Bucky said, wiping his face with a rag.

“ Let’s take a break,” Steve said and led them to the small yard out back. It was a little cooler at least. They sat down against the cold brick of the wall. Steve looked up and he could see his kitchen window.

Bucky took a long drink of his soda and Steve pretended to be interested in his own, trying not to watch Bucky’s exposed throat as it bobbed up and down.

“ Thanks,” he said to Steve when he was finished.

Steve smiled and tipped his own bottle. “You’re welcome.”

Bucky closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. “I don’t think I’ve been this happy for a long time,” he finally said.

“ Yeah?”

Bucky nodded. “I feel like I have...purpose. I can’t remember when I last felt that.”

Steve stared down at his bottle. “I wish I could say the same. I don’t feel like I do much of anything that has purpose.” He hadn’t meant to sound so maudlin but it was true.

Bucky opened his eyes and looked at him. “If it wasn’t for you, I would be cooped up in my Aunt’s house, too scared and sad to do anything.”

Steve started to protest but Bucky shushed him. “Steve, you have purpose. More than anyone else I know.”

Steve put his bottle down on the ground beside him. “I used to draw. I wanted to be an artist when I was younger.”

“ Really?” Bucky asked.

“ Yeah. But then I got ill and it just...left me. I haven’t picked up a sketchbook or pencil for a long time. I know it seems silly to think that doesn’t give me purpose but...I don’t know. Sorry, I’m not really making sense.”

He glanced up at Bucky and while he had been watching him all these weeks, he’d also been avoiding really  _ looking _ at him. Bucky was looking at him now, with a kind of sad curiosity but also with something that Steve couldn’t quite figure out but that made his heart beat a little faster.

“ You should draw again,” Bucky said. “Did it make you happy?”

“ Yes,” Steve said.

Bucky stood up and held out his hand. Steve took it and when Bucky helped him to his feet, they ended up standing a hair too close. Bucky’s eyes stared straight into Steve’s.

“ Then you should do it,” Bucky said softly. He was still holding Steve’s hand. “There’s no point in denying something that makes you feel better about yourself.”

Steve had to hold himself back from kissing Bucky right then and there, the smell of oil drifting in to the yard from the garage and enveloping them.

“ I...I might,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

Bucky licked his lips and for a split second, Steve thought...but then Bucky just smiled. He let go of Steve’s hand. “Good.” He picked up both of their bottles by the necks with his right hand and walked back into the garage.

Steve followed him a moment later.

*

“ Hey, want to come over or dinner on Friday night? Aunt Helena is away visiting friends for the weekend and I feel like cooking up a storm.”

It was Wednesday and work had finally quietened a little. The radio was playing Ella Fitzgerald and Steve put down his spanner.

“ Sounds good. What’s on the menu?”

“ I was thinking steak and baked potato. Simple but I have a couple of tricks up my sleeve.”

Steve grinned. “I’ll be grading you.”

Bucky snorted. “Does that mean you grade my work in here too?”

“ B+. Could improve.”

He laughed when Bucky threw a rag at him.

Friday night came around and Steve went home after work to shower and change. He put on a dark blue shirt and some khakis and headed to Bucky’s, walking in the warm evening. That cloud of despair had been threatening to settle on him today but he pushed it away. He was going to spend the evening with Bucky and he was just going to have to keep his feelings at bay.

Steve’s mood lifted when Bucky answered the front door wearing a red apron with white polka dots.

“ Don’t laugh,” Bucky growled. “This is a new shirt and I don’t want it ruined.”

“ I didn’t say a thing,” Steve said with a grin and followed Bucky through to the kitchen.

Steve sat at the kitchen table after Bucky refused any help with dinner and watched him cook. He talked about growing up in Brooklyn and his life before the war. They ate dinner, which was delicious, and then went into the front parlour and sat down with coffee.

“ I always knew,” Bucky said. “That I liked men.”

Steve’s stomach flipped a little in fear, the way it always did when talk headed in this direction, but also in exhilaration that he  _ could  _ finally talk about it. They had deliberately not spoken about everything since that Sunday.

“ When did you know?” Bucky asked.

Steve stared down into his cup. “When I was thirteen,” he said quietly.

“ Have you ever...”

Steve shook his head. “No.”

“ It feels like prison, doesn’t it,” Bucky said softly.

Steve nodded.

“ I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to make you feel uncomfortable. It’s just nice to speak with someone who understands. Who  _ really _ understands.”

“ It’s alright,” Steve said. “It’s good.” He clutched at his coffee cup to keep his hands steady.

“ When I got back from the war and realized I was still the same, I felt so trapped in Brooklyn. Everything seemed to close in on me. Then my family found out and sent me here and I was sure that was it for me.” Bucky glanced around at the parlour. “I was sure this was just somewhere that I would eventually stop existing.” He turned to Steve. “But then I met you.”

“ Me?” Steve asked. His heart began to beat harder.

Bucky’s eyes didn’t waver from his. “Yes. I didn’t ever think I would accept myself for who I really was, despite Aunt Helena supporting me. But you do. You accept me.”

“ Of course I do,” Steve said softly. “You’re...Buck, you’re...” The words stuck in his throat. If there was ever a chance to say something, it was now. But he couldn’t.

“ What?” Bucky asked, his eyes suddenly desperate. “Steve, what? Say it, please.”

“ I like having you as a friend,” he replied, his voice small.

“ That’s not what you want to say,” Bucky said, his eyes boring into Steve’s.

Steve could feel the heat rising in his face. He felt cornered. Was Bucky telling him that he had feelings for him?

“ I don’t know what you’re...” Steve began, already knowing the answer. Now it could be actually happening, the thing he’d longed for so desperately, he was terrified.

Bucky swallowed hard. “Why are we pretending that there isn’t something between us? I’ve felt it for so long and I know you have too. Don’t you know that I see how hard you try and fight it?”

Steve’s throat was dry and he stood up from the couch. “I need to go and do the dishes,” he said, panicking.

He turned, ready to walk away when Bucky grabbed him by the arm. Steve looked at him, his heart pounding.

“ You’re scared,” Bucky said. His face was hard, his eyes defiant.

“ No, I’m not,” Steve immediately answered.

“ You are,” Bucky said. “You’re scared of how I make you feel.”

“ I...” Steve couldn’t make himself speak.

“ You think I’m not scared?” Bucky asked, still holding Steve’s arm. “You think how I feel about you doesn’t scare the shit out of me? Sometimes I think I’d rather be back on the front line than have to deal with this.”  _ This _ hung in the air between them.

“ Bucky,” Steve said and everything was plain in his voice.  _ Bucky felt the same way _ .

Bucky’s face softened and all that was left was desperation. “Steve, I know what people think of men like us, what could happen if people knew but...I can’t lie to myself. I know what I am. Aren’t you sick of hiding from yourself? Of how bad it makes you feel?”

Steve closed his eyes. “Yes,” he said, and the floodgates opened. “Yes, I’m sick of it. And I’m tired. I’m so tired of pretending. I’m tired of my mother telling me I’ll find a wife and everything will be perfect. I’m tired of pretending that I’m...normal.” He opened his eyes. “I’m tired of wanting what I can’t have.”

Bucky released his grip on Steve’s arm and moved it to Steve’s shoulder. His touch was light but there was so much weight there. The weight of everything Steve wanted. Had always wanted. “You don’t have to pretend. Not with me.”

“ I have to know that you’re not just doing this because we’re both...” Steve’s voice trailed off.

If Bucky was offended, he didn’t show it. “You should know me better than that. I’m attracted to you in every possible way that I can be, Steve.”

Steve was trembling. His breathing stuttered. “I want you.” His voice was barely a whisper. That was all he had to say.

Bucky moved closer and Steve couldn’t tear his eyes from Bucky’s. “You can have me,” Bucky whispered. “I want you, too.”

Their lips met and Steve felt the tears running down his face, the tears of so many years wanting this and finally, finally,  _ getting _ it. Bucky felt so good and Steve clung to him, kissing him with every ounce of passion in his body.

Bucky broke the kiss, his face flushed. “Upstairs,” he gasped. “I don’t want to risk anyone seeing us.”

Steve nodded, his head light and followed Bucky up to his room. Bucky drew the curtains across his window and turned on the lamp next to his bed. Steve closed the door and they were together again, kissing like they both had the air that the other needed. Steve couldn’t stop drinking Bucky in. It was everything he ever thought it would feel like and it was with this amazing man. He pulled away and held Bucky’s face in his hands.

“ Thank you,” he whispered.

Bucky smiled. “For what?”

Steve kissed him softly. “For being you. For finding me.”

Bucky gently wiped the tears from Steve’s face with his thumb. “I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for you, Steve Rogers.”

The tears ran afresh and Bucky led Steve to his bed and held him as they lay together.

*

It grew late but they didn’t move. They heard Helena come home and go to bed. She must have seen Steve’s jacket downstairs and knew he was still here. Bucky was lying on his bad side, running his fingers through Steve’s hair. Steve watched Bucky’s face; how happy he looked.

“ What do we do now?” Steve asked quietly.

“ What do you mean?”

Steve shifted a little and curled his arm around Bucky, pulling him closer. “How do we...how can we be...together?”

Bucky sighed and nuzzled into Steve’s neck. “The way guys like us have always had to do it: In secret.”

“ Was it hard for you and Adam?”

Bucky hummed. “There was nowhere we could go. His parents were like mine and he didn’t have a place of his own. Sometimes we could get a hotel room but it was dangerous. But now you have a place and Helena doesn’t care. We’re lucky.”

Steve felt bitterness rise up in him. “We shouldn’t have to depend on luck to be together.”

Bucky moved to face him. “I know. But for now, it’s all we can do. Look, let’s not dwell on the things we can’t control. I just want to be able to kiss you...” he leaned in and kissed Steve, a small smile on his face, “...and enjoy that look on your face every time I do.”

“ What face?” Steve asked.

“ Like you can’t believe I just kissed you.”

Steve stroked Bucky’s neck. “I can’t. I feel like I’m dreaming.”

Bucky’s face softened. “You’re not.” He looked down. “I’m so happy, Steve.”

Steve was overwhelmed and kissed Bucky again and again, into the early hours. When he kissed Bucky again at the front door before he left, drinking in as much of him as he could, he felt like something was pulling at his heart.

Bucky pressed his forehead to Steve’s. “You can stay, you know,” he said softly.

Steve closed his eyes. “It’s better if I go. We have to be careful. People will talk.”

Bucky nodded but his face was hard.

“ I’m sorry. It’s just...there are people in this town that could hurt us if they found out,” Steve said.

“ I know. I wish everyone could be like Aunt Helena.”

“ Me too,” Steve said. He kissed Bucky again. “Come to mine tomorrow evening?”

Bucky smiled. “Sure.”

Steve slipped out of the house and decided to take the back road home. It was still dark but he could see some faint light creeping onto the horizon. Everything was still and silent as he walked, a strange in-between that belonged just to him for this moment. He felt brand new.

*

Bucky came over to Steve’s the following evening and they couldn’t stay less than a foot apart. Now that both felt the same way, it hurt Steve to be apart. He was on his way to being in love. He knew that. It scared him to know it but it was as certain to him as anything.

Sunday was the worst; seeing Bucky in church and telling every fibre of his being not to stare, not to steal glances at him. Bucky stared straight ahead but Steve could see the tense line of his jaw and knew that he was fighting it too.

Monday morning, Steve opened the garage and his stomach still flipped when Bucky walked in.

“ Hey,” he said to Steve with a soft smile.

Steve went to reach out for him but stopped, aware of where they were. “Hi.”

Bucky put his lunch down on one of the work benches and leaned against it. “So yesterday was hard. In church.”

“ Yeah,” Steve said, thinking of the mixture of longing and guilt he had felt. Especially when his mother had dragged him over to say hello to the Carters after the service. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”

Bucky walked up to him and stood almost nose to nose. “It took everything I had not to look back at you every couple of minutes.”

Steve laughed softly and gently placed a hand on Bucky’s chest, allowing himself to lean in for a kiss. “I know. It -”

“ Hello?”

They both started and immediately stepped away from each other. Steve’s heart pounded when he saw Old Mr Pym walk the garage, squinting slightly.

“ Oh, good. You’re open,” Mr Pym said and smiled at them.

Steve could have cried he was so relieved. Stepping in from the harsh daylight to the dimness of the garage must have meant Mr Pym’s eyesight hadn’t adjusted properly too see how close he and Bucky had been standing. Steve glanced at Bucky; he looked pale and a little shaken and started to busy himself with his tools.

“ Morning, Mr Pym.” Steve said brightly. “What can we do for you?”

“ Well, it’s the Ford. There’s a rattle when it starts...”

After Steve had taken Mr Pym’s car and called him a cab, he walked over to Bucky.

“ We need to be more careful,” Bucky said quietly. “That was...”

“ Yeah,” Steve said and wiped his brow. “Yeah.”

A solemn quiet settled between them then as the full gravity of their situation hit them. They would only ever be able to be together behind closed doors. Bucky watched Steve for a moment before turning back to the Oldsmobile he had been working on.

*

The next scare came a couple of weeks later.

They had both eased off a little, keeping their intimate meetings to a minimum. In a small town like Mayweather it would be all too easy to arouse suspicions and couldn’t afford to slip up.

It hurt Steve to not be able to kiss Bucky or stroke his cheek or touch his hand whenever he wanted but there was no other choice. He continued to go to his mother’s house for dinner and try to remain engaged in her conversations but his mind was always on Bucky. He envied Bucky, being able to talk to his aunt about their situation, to which she was sympathetic. Steve couldn’t really talk to anyone.

It was a Wednesday afternoon and Steve was closing the garage. It had been a hard day and both he and Bucky were starving.

“ Let’s go to the diner for dinner. My treat,” Bucky said.

Steve grinned. “Guess I’ll be ordering the steak.”

They walked down the street towards the diner and for the first time in a few weeks, Steve started to feel happier. He smiled at Bucky.

“ What are you smiling at, you goon?”

Steve shrugged. “Just smiling. Hey, go and get us a table. I just need to grab a newspaper.”

Bucky gave him a salute and a crooked grin and headed to the diner,

Steve went into the grocery store and picked up a newspaper. There was also a copy of Amazing Stories on the stand and he picked it up for Bucky, smiling to himself again.

When he stepped out of the grocery store and glanced over to the diner, he frowned when he saw Brock Rumlow talking to Bucky. As he started walking towards them, he realized that they weren’t talking. Brock was poking Bucky’s chest with one big finger, his face twisted in a snarl. Steve started to run.

“ What’s going on?” he said when he reached them.

“ This asshole wasn’t looking where he was going and knocked my soda out of my hand,” Brock spat.

Bucky looked angry. “It was an accident and I apologized and offered to buy you another one. You’re the one who couldn’t accept it.”

Brock shoved Bucky hard. “You think just because you have one arm I won’t punch you in the face?”

“ Hey,” Steve said and stopped Brock with a hand on the shoulder.

Brock hit Steve’s hand away. “Get your hands off me, you draft-dodging fairy.”

Steve and Bucky both bristled then and if Brock had had a few seconds more to process the look that crossed both of their faces, he would have guessed for sure. Luckily for them, someone stepped between them all.

“ Now, I don’t think you want to go making a big scene here do you, Brock?” It was Dr Banner. His voice was laced with something that Steve had never heard before; almost like a threat interwoven with his calmness. It seemed to do the trick though.

Brock shifted his eyes to Dr Banner, evidentially deciding that three against one weren’t good odds. “I guess not,” he said. He gave Bucky and Steve one last sneer and headed off down the street.

Steve let out a shaky breath but his throat was tight. “Thank you, Dr Banner.”

Dr Banner gave Steve a nod. “Any time.” He walked off without another word and Steve couldn’t have been more grateful for everything Dr Banner had done for him.

Bucky was shaking slightly, clenching and unclenching his fist. Steve gently tugged on his sleeve.

“ Come on,” he said and they went into the diner.

Most of the patrons had been watching the drama from the window and when Steve and Bucky walked in, politely returned to minding their own business. They got a booth in the corner. It was only after Steve had ordered coffee for them both that he realized Bucky was shaking.

“ Hey,” he said. He couldn’t risk touching Bucky across the table so he gently nudged his foot. “It’s okay.”

“ Was that one of the people who could hurt us if they found out?” Bucky said and his voice was ice and despair.

Steve swallowed thickly. “Yes.”

“ Then it’s not okay.”

Bucky was silent for the rest of the evening, picking at but not eating his food. He wouldn’t look at Steve.

When they left the diner, Bucky shoved his hand in his pocket and glanced around the street. “I should get going. See you at work tomorrow.” And with that, he walked off.

Steve couldn’t risk going after him and walked away himself, his heart crumbling.

*

A knocking at his door woke him after midnight. He blinked into the darkness and listened until he heard it again. Bucky was standing in the darkness.

“ Can I come in?” he asked quietly. “No-one saw me.”

“ Of course,” Steve said and ushered him into the living room. He didn’t turn the lights on.

“ I’m sorry,” Bucky said, his voice cracking. “About earlier. It was just...like Adam all over again. I thought what if something happens to you? What if -”

Steve stepped forward and kissed Bucky hard. “We’re in this together,” he gasped as Bucky responded and kissed him back.

Bucky nodded and started to usher Steve towards his bedroom. “I need you, Steve.”

Steve let himself be led, wanting what was going to happen. “Buck...”

“ It’s alright,” Bucky said, kissing him softly.

It was everything and nothing like Steve thought it would be. Bucky whispered that he loved him in the darkness, his face buried in Steve’s neck as Steve moved above him. Steve said it back and everything felt right.

This is where he wanted to be forever.

*

“ Is it always like that?” Steve asked afterwards. He was nestled against Bucky’s side as Bucky smoked in the darkness.

“ It’s never been like that for me,” Bucky said. “Not even with Adam. But then I wasn’t in love with him.”

Steve ran his hand down Bucky’s chest and Bucky rested his head against Steve’s.

“ We can’t stay here.” Bucky whispered.

“ I know,” Steve whispered back. As soon as the words were said, he knew they could never be together here, no matter how careful they were. For the first time in his life, he felt like he had the courage to finally break away from Mayweather and be the person he always wanted to be.

The person he could be with Bucky.

*

In the morning, Bucky was in the living room reading the copy of Amazing Stories that Steve had bought for him. He looked up and smiled shyly when Steve walked in.

“ Good morning.”

Steve could stop the smile that spread across his own face and the heat he felt creeping up his neck at the memory of last night. “Good morning.”

Bucky chuckled. “Looking a little pink there, Mr Rogers.”

Steve poured them both a cup of coffee and sat down beside him. “Don’t be a jerk. It was my first time.”

Bucky leaned over and kissed him. “As far as I’m concerned, it was mine too.”

Steve flicked Bucky’s magazine. “How’s the future?”

"Better than the present in a lot of regards,” Bucky said and put the magazine down. “Steve, what are we going to do?” His voice had dropped and Steve could hear the anguish in his words.

Steve gripped his coffee cup tightly. “Would you leave with me? If we figured something out?”

Hope flashed across Bucky’s face. “You...mean it? You would really drop everything, your life here, your work, for me?”

Steve nodded. “I’ve never belonged here. Until you got out of that car the first day we met, I never really felt alive. I know who I am now.”

Bucky hastily wiped away the tears that had started to roll down his face. “Jeez, give a guy some warning before you go spouting stuff like that.”

Steve smiled and put down his cup, pulling Bucky to him. “Now who’s a little pink?”

Bucky let out a long breath. “So where do we go?”

“ I don’t know,” Steve said quietly. “Somewhere that might need a couple of good mechanics.”

I always wanted to go to Canada,” Bucky said. “Don’t know why.”

Steve’s stomach twisted in excitement and fear. “That’s as good a place as any to start.”

*

They started to collect information about Canada – library books, National Geographic articles – anything they could get their hands on. The more Steve found out, the more he wanted to go. It looked beautiful. There was no guarantee that it would be any less dangerous than being in Mayweather but the town was starting to feel more and more like Steve’s tomb.

Bucky was happy too, talking excitedly of opportunities and potential homes. He often looked at Steve with a worried expression though, as if he didn’t quite believe that Steve was going to go through with this. Steve was determined to show him how serious he was.

He locked up the garage one afternoon, about two weeks after their decision. Bucky huffed out a relieved breath as soon as the heavy doors were closed and pushed Steve up against the wall, his lips all over him.

“ _ Finally _ . Want to go upstairs?”

Steve kissed Bucky back for a moment and then pulled away. “I’m going to tell my mother.”

Bucky went dead still. “Tell her?” he said.

“ About us. About leaving.”

Bucky dropped his arm from around Steve’s neck and stepped back. He was watching Steve intently. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

Steve leaned against the cool concrete wall. “I can’t just up and leave without any explanation. I can’t lie to her any more.”

Bucky scratched his head and walked in a slow circle. “Would she tell anyone?”

“ I don’t think so,” Steve said. “Buck, I owe it to her to tell the truth.”

Bucky leaned next to him. The garage was dark and quiet. “You’re serious, then. About Canada?”

Steve turned to him. “Bucky, I’ve never been more serious about anything in my whole life.”

Something like a sob escaped Bucky then. “I’m sorry. I just thought...”

Steve knew what he was trying to say. He cradled Bucky’s face with his hands. “I’m never leaving you. I promise.”

Bucky rested his head against Steve’s shoulder. “Tell her.”

*

Steve never thought this could be so hard but he loved Bucky. He loved him with everything he had and he needed to do this.

He went to his mother’s house for dinner and listened to her talk for most of the evening about Mrs Parker and Mrs Hill and some silly dispute about the church bake sale. As he listened, Steve realized just how much he had been pulling away from all of this and how closer he was getting to Bucky. This wasn’t his life any more. It wasn’t the life he wanted. He waited for his mother to take a sip of her tea.

“ Mom, I have something to tell you.”

Mrs Rogers put down her cup and looked at him expectantly. Steve took a breath.

“ I’ve met someone.”

Her face lit up and Steve felt terrible knowing that he was about to possible destroy their relationship. “Oh?” she asked, the excitement apparent in her voice. There was no other way to break this to her.

“ It’s James Barnes.”

He watched as his mother’s face went from excitement to confusion to comprehension. “James Barnes? But...”

Steve didn’t say anything and watched as his mother slowly started to put the pieces together.

“ But...” she said again. “A man?”

“ Yes,” Steve said quietly.

“ But...when…?” Her voice was barley a whisper.

Steve moved and took her hand, almost expecting her to flinch away but she just clung to him and looked desperately into his eyes.

“ Always. It’s always been there.”

Mrs Rogers finally burst into tears. Huge racking sobs that broke his heart. He’d never wanted to hurt her. Steve pulled her to him and held her tight.

“ I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry.”

“ Oh, Steve,” his mother said, her voice wretched. “It’s my fault.”

“ No, Mom. It’s something that’s always been here. You didn’t do anything wrong. I swear to you. I swear on my own life.”

She pulled back and he felt terrible for ever thinking that she would be disgusted or anything else with him. She just looked scared. “I hear how people talk, the things they say. It’s terrible, how they talk.”

“ I know. I hear it too.”

She dabbed at her eyes. “Do you...love him?”

Steve smiled sadly. “I do. I’m happy, Mom.”

She gently touched his cheek. “That’s not all you want to say.”

Steve swallowed. “We can’t stay here. We just can’t.”

Tears rolled afresh down his mother’s face. “I know. Oh, Steve. I’m so scared. Not for me. I would be a fool to think you’d stay here forever but...the two of you. I’m scared for you.”

He knew she meant well. “It’s okay, Mom. We’ll be okay.”

Mrs Rogers blew her nose. “When...when are you leaving?”

Steve held her hand. “Not for a while. We haven’t decided on a place yet. I won’t just disappear on you. I could never do that.”

She nodded. Thank you. For being honest with me.”

“ I’m sorry, Mom.”

Mrs Rogers smiled. It didn’t quite reach her eyes but she was trying. “Your father said something to me once that I’ve never forgotten. “Sarah, you can’t help who you’re attracted to any more than you could stop it raining just by shouting at the sky.” I thought it silly at the time but...” She trailed off.

Steve squeezed her hand. “It’s true.”

*

Life went on for the time being. Mrs Rogers wasn’t quite ready to fully accept everything but she tried. Steve and Bucky continued to work but their plans were starting to take a more solid shape. Properties were enquired about. Aunt Helena knew of some friends who could with work. It could happen. It  _ would _ happen.

They loved each other as best they could but the prospect of leaving kept them going. Canada was drawing closer each day. Steve held on to the hope that one day, they wouldn’t have to hide. Bucky read him stories about robots and time-machines and worlds that might be theirs one day.

Then Bucky came into the garage one morning, red-faced and excited. “There’s a house with a garage,” he said. “In Quebec. Aunt Helena knows a guy, they need mechanics...”

Steve had no idea what their future would be but he was ready to step into it.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Argh, this fic really fought me! I'm not entirely happy with it - it feels a bit rushed at the end - but it's been bugging me that I've been sitting on it since last September. I hope you've enjoyed it all the same. Thank you for being so patient!

**Author's Note:**

> Originally planned to be one fic but I've been sitting on it for a while. Hopefully posting it as a two-parter will get me writing it faster! I'm not sure if this feels like it's set in the 50s but I'll leave that to you to decide. 
> 
> Apologies again for not answering many comments; things are as hectic as ever but I read them all and am so grateful that readers continue to follow my work.
> 
> I'll have some links to amazing fan art and podcasts that amazing people have taken the time to make in the notes of part two!


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